


two fuck ups make a right

by kickcows



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Addiction, M/M, Sobriety, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25120654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: Tony has been sober for ten years, but has never dared to be a sponsor for someone. That is, until he meets Peter Parker and decides that he’s going to be the best sponsor he can be to him.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 102





	two fuck ups make a right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moransroar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/gifts).



> I was inspired by [this moodboard](https://iloveyou3thousand.tumblr.com/post/619717867762483200/drug-addictpeter-x-sponsortony-au-peter-has) by iloveyou3thousand on tumblr. This is my first time writing something of this nature. Please enjoy. :)

* * *

The pack of cigarettes makes Tony’s pants pocket tight, the carton snug against his inner thigh as he walks towards the hospital. It’s Tuesday, his normal day that he comes to the hospital to help the resident counselor with the new drug addicts that have decided that today is the day they are going to begin their new sober life. Tony knows it’s always a rough session on Tuesdays, so he came prepared with a full pack of smokes because he never knew who was going to need one. 

“Hi Carol.” He greets the nurse at the check in station, who smiles and grabs a name badge for him. “How’s it looking today?” 

“We had a new one come in last night. He is not very happy to be here.” Carol writes his name, then hands it back to him. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, Mr. Stark.” 

“Don’t I always?” With a roguish smile on his face, he slaps his name tag on the left side of his jacket and waits to be buzzed in to the back of the house. 

His first stop before heading into the room where he’ll be working with the counselor, other sponsors and the addicts giving sober living a go is to the break room. Coffee is a must, although calling what is served here barely qualifies as that. It’s more water with a hint of coffee flavor to it. This hospital believes that caffeine isn’t the best for their recovering addicts, as it’s a new vice to substitute an old one, but Tony doesn’t believe in that shit. He’s been sober now for ten plus years, and knows that drinking weak and or strong coffee makes no difference except on a person’s mood. Which, right now, his mood isn’t great because the coffee is so weak that he should just be drinking water. 

Holding his styrofoam cup, he heads out to the back and pulls his fresh pack of smokes out. Setting his cup down on a pole, he starts to pack his cigarettes and notices someone sitting on a bench underneath one of the trees. This hospital functions as a halfway house for some of the residents if they can’t afford to check into a proper sober living facility. Tony couldn’t do that when he was going through his addiction phase, and had stayed at a place very similar to this which is what drew him to this place. The person sitting on the bench looks no older than fourteen, maybe fifteen. Tony feels his heart ache. No one that young should be put into this position, but really - who is he to judge. He began doing drugs when he was that age. 

But he’d had a bad wake up call, and had met a man that helped change his life for the better. James Rhodes - better known as Rhodey to those that he trusted - helped get his life on track by being one of the best sponsors he’d ever had in his life. He’d tried to get sober multiple times before he met Rhodey, but had always lapsed and gotten back on the wagon. It was embarrassing how many times he failed. But he kept trying. Then, Rhodey met him at a place that was a lot like St. Maria’s and told him words that he would never forget for the rest of his life. 

“ _You fucked up. So what? We all do. But the fact is you know you did, and that’s what matters right now. Remember that, and it will help you keep on this path to recovery. But you have to want it, Tones_.” 

Tones. That name still makes him feel good, as it meant that someone cared about him. He’d fallen into drugs after both of his parents had died, partying with the wrong people who were taking advantage of the money he’d fallen into because of their deaths. But after that ran dry, he’d resorted to extreme measures - things he hadn’t really been proud of. But he’s still alive because, like Rhodey said, he’d made the decision to finally change. 

Unwrapping the cellophane from his pack of smokes, he tosses it out in the waste bin and then proceeds to flip two smokes upside down. He prefers two lucky smokes because pairs are aesthetically pleasing to him. The person sitting on the bench is wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and looks like they’re in no mood to be spoken to which makes Tony want to talk to them. _Here goes nothing_.

He sits down on the bench near them, and doesn’t see them move. _So far, so good_. He holds his pack of smokes out. “Want one? They’re Reds, so they’ll really pack a punch.” 

“Sure.” The sullen voice that hits his ears is a little deeper than he expects. It could be due to their lack of sleep, because no one sleeps great their first night in a place like this. He notices him take two, which is fine by him. One less smoke for him. “Need a light, though.” 

“Good thing I’ve got one.” Tony grabs his own smoke, then sets the pack down next to him. He turns and sees the hood come down and is surprised by how attractive this person is. A baby face, but that could be deceptive. There are bags under his eyes, probably from the lack of sleep and possible withdrawal, depending on what substances he’s trying to kick right now. Wavy brown hair with a few defined curls hanging on his forehead, and warm chocolate brown eyes that are bloodshot look back at him with an annoyed expression. _I’m staring_. He blinks, then holds the lighter to the tip of the cigarette, and waits for the cherry to turn red before lighting his own. Taking a long drag, he blows the smoke upwards, then looks back at him. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“I’m not a kid.” Smoke gets blown in his direction, but not necessarily at his face. “I’m seventeen. And none of your damn business.” 

The attitude he expects, the age - not so much. Seventeen, and has that baby face? The world can be cruel sometimes. “What are you in here for?” 

“Again, none of your damn business. Thanks for the smoke.” He watches him get up, and goes to another part of the courtyard, leaving him alone. 

Tony doesn’t bother to chase after him. He’ll realize soon enough that he’s got to talk to him eventually, as it’s his job as a sponsor to help someone like him out. He’s been waiting for the right person to take under his wing, let them know it's going to be okay, and this seems like the perfect opportunity. With the limited talk they just shared, he can tell that they’re a lot like he was at that age, which means he really needs to figure out a way to click right with him. He takes a few more drags on his smoke, then stubs it out in the sand of the ashtray at the end of the bench. There are cigarette butts nearby, because why would everyone use what’s been put there? Fixing his shirt, he heads back into the hospital, and heads to the meeting room with his weak coffee. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” A few of the residents greet him, to which he raises his hand and smiles. “Glad you’re back today!” 

“It’s always nice to come see you guys.” He’s telling the truth. Each week these guys are looking better and better, sober living doing wonders for them. “Who’s the new kid?” 

“Oh, that’s Peter.” The girl to his left says, an annoyed look crossing her face. “He came in yesterday afternoon. Cops brought him in.” 

“What Ashley is trying to say is that Pete’s still adjusting to his new situation.” The other girl rolls her eyes, then looks over at the door. “We tried to talk to him last night, but he wasn’t very nice.” 

“He’s detoxing.” Tony shrugs, knowing that no one is going to be friendly when they’re going through withdrawals. “He didn’t hurt either of you, did he?” 

“No, no!” Ashley shakes her head. “No, we tried to talk to him at dinner, and he got up and left.” 

“You did what you could.” He smiles, happy that these girls are doing so well. He can remember a few months ago they were in the same situation as this Peter kid is now in. They were rude, closed off, not talking to anyone. Now they have fuller faces, and genuinely seem happier. “Does he have a last name?” 

“Parker.” 

_Peter Parker_. Tony gives each girl a cigarette, the both thanking him after sticking it behind their left ears. He goes over to the front of the room, and sees his favorite counselor is there. Val Kyrie is someone who gets these teens better than a lot of other counselors do. There’s another gal that comes in to help with her load - Nebu Lacrof - the two of them alternating days. There’s a couple of other sponsors that show up from time to time, Tony being one of them. But it sounds to him like he might start coming here every day, if Peter’s attitude doesn’t change. _Yes, this is the right person for me_. 

“Ah, Tony.” Val turns towards him and smiles. “I didn’t see you there.” 

“I’m sneaky like that.” He raises his eyebrows up and down, grinning as he makes her laugh. “How’re you? I met the new kid.” 

“Did he talk to you?” She asks, clearly looking like she’s hopeful that he has. 

Tony shakes his head. “Not really. I offered him a smoke, then asked his name, and he shot me down. Twice.” 

“Ouch.” 

“Does he have a sponsor yet?” 

“No, he came in last night. Why?” Val sizes him up. “You up for the job, Stark?” 

“Not sure,” he admits. “I might be. Or, I could be a walking disaster. Either way, the kid reminds me of someone.” 

“Who?” 

“Myself.” 

Val grins, and nods her head. “Strangely enough, I can see that.” She looks down at her notebook. “I think if you can get him to agree to it, I would be okay with it. Pretty sure Nebu would agree with me.” 

“Thanks for that vote of confidence. I think.” He smirks, and takes a sip of his very cold coffee flavored water. “Means I might be seeing you more.” 

“Oh no. We wouldn’t want that.” 

He laughs, and sees Peter walk into the room with his head down and his hands shoved into his pockets. “Let’s talk afterwards, okay?” 

“You got it.” Val turns to the room. “Alright, everyone. Let’s sit in a circle today.” 

Tony hangs back, sitting next to Val as the circle forms. He stays quiet, looking over at Peter a few times while others are talking. He catches him looking at him a few times, but instead of holding his gaze, Peter immediately looks somewhere else. Tony can tell he’s skittish, and knows that if he makes one wrong comment that it’ll do more damage than its worth, and that’s what he wants to avoid. 

For the rest of the meeting, this happens a few more times. At the end of the meeting, Val invites everyone to stay, but tells them they’re not under obligation to hang out. That’s all Peter needs to hear to take off, which again doesn’t surprise Tony in the least. Clearly the kid was brought here against his will, or has been involved in something that has made this sober living his only option. He looks over at Val, who is looking at him and nods her head. Hoping he has the right idea, he follows Peter out the door. 

He’s back outside, sitting on the bench, playing with the extra cigarette that Tony had given to him before the meeting. Tony stands over by the door, wanting to make it clear that he hasn’t followed him, and is just outside to enjoy a smoke. He pulls another one out of his pack, and rests it against his lips, fishing for his lighter. Sparking it, he takes a deep inhale, then blows some of the smoke through his nose as he puts his lighter back. He notices Peter is now looking at him, clearly having a difficult time wanting to address him. 

Saving him the trouble, Tony grabs his lighter and tosses it across the courtyard. Peter catches it with no problem. He sees a hint of a smile appear on his face, Tony hating how his first reaction is _cute_ , when that isn’t how he should be feeling. No, if he’s going to help him, he needs to not catch any feels for him. That’s not going to do a recovering addict any good, not when they’re already going through a ton of shit. Why add that unnecessary complication on top of it? 

“Thanks.” Peter says, throwing back the lighter to him. Tony catches it in almost the same way he had, and _that_ brought a real smile to the kid’s lips. “I’m Peter.” 

“I’m Tony.” He takes another drag, then blows the smoke upwards. “Let me guess - cops picked you up last night, and you had the option of come here or go to jail.” 

The wide eyes that look back at him lets him know he’s right. “H-How’d you know that?” 

“Lucky guess.” Tony walks across the courtyard, and watches Peter flick some of the ash off his cigarette. “Mind if I sit next to you? Unless you’d rather I keep shouting to you.” 

“N-No, it’s fine.” Once he sits down, he sees Peter turn towards him. “How’d you know that’s what happened? I thought only Val and Nebu knew our history. You’re not a counselor, right?” 

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not. But I know a little bit about what you’re going through because I’ve been there myself. Many _many_ times.” Tony knows he’s got to earn this kid’s trust before he can offer being his sponsor, so he decides to tell him his story. “It took me seven times of sober living before it finally stuck.” 

“Shit.”

“You can say that again.” Tony takes another drag, and ashes his smoke near the ashtray. “I didn’t want it those first six times. The seventh, it was either sober living or suicide. And I didn’t really have the guts to kill myself.” 

“I’ve thought about it.” Peter comments quietly. “Take that one hit that you know will be the best ride of your life.” 

“And final.” He looks over at him, and sees he’s looking at the ground. “What did you get caught with last night?” 

“A gram of coke, some weed, and a bunch of molly.” 

“Do you normally take all of those together?” Tony leans back on the bench to grab his smokes out of his pocket. He pulls another one out, then offers the pack to Peter who also takes another. They both use their current smoke to light the new one, Tony putting his butt into the ashtray while Peter drops his on the ground and stamps it out. “You like to party?” 

“I like to get high. Forget about how shitty my life is.” Peter rolls up his sleeves, showing a few track marks. “I’ve only experimented a little. It’s stupid. I don’t like that kind of high.” 

“But you keep doing it.” 

“Y-Yeah.” 

He sighs. “It’s not going to be an easy road. You’re going to feel like you want to die in a day or two.” 

“I already feel that way.” 

“Look - you seem like a good kid. How’d you get into this in the first place?” Tony looks back at him, and sees Peter is looking at him this time. “What?” 

“Nothing. I’m just not used to adults talking to me like this.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He is. No teenager deserves to be treated differently because of what they’re going through. It’s a difficult time - add addiction on top of it? No wonder the kid has thought about suicide. “I’m not like most adults.” 

“Guess that’s probably true. I don’t know you.” Peter shrugs. “My parents died when I was young. I live with my Aunt and Uncle, well - I did. My uncle died about a year ago, and since then it’s just been bad. So, I started to hang out with some people at my school, and they introduced me to drugs.” 

“How very afternoon school special.” 

“I don’t get what that means.” 

“It’s okay.” Tony takes another drag. “It’s an old person reference.” He winks, and sees that hint of a smile return. “So, these kids - they like to do drugs, and they offered it to you, and now you’re here. Real good friends.” 

“....Yeah.” 

He stands up, and looks down at Peter. “The reason I was able to get sober the last time was because I had a good sponsor. Do you know what a sponsor is?” 

“Like, in AA?” 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t want to go to AA.” 

“Are you an alcoholic?” 

“I mean, I like to get drunk. But I don’t know if that makes me an alcoholic.” 

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do you wake up in the morning and think about how you need a drink in order to function? Or you look forward to a drink after school?” 

“No.” 

“Then you’re good.” Tony remembers how he would wake up needing that first sip of bourbon to really get his morning off to a good start. “I’m one myself. Alcoholic, drug addict. I didn’t care. Give me anything.” 

“Will I have to go to meetings?” 

“Yes.” He isn’t going to lie to him. “They’ll be catered to your vice. So, if you’re more into drugs, then it’ll be NA - Narcotics Anonymous. No big deal. Your sponsor will be there with you every step of the way. They’ll go to meetings with you. If you ever feel low, like you want to use again, you call your sponsor. Have you ever seen Pinocchio?” 

Peter nods his head. “Yeah. I always hated when he turned into a donkey. Is that what’s happening to me now?” 

“Sort of. You’re not a jackass, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Tony teases, and sees Peter smile again. _Nope. No good_. He pushes away that lingering thought and takes another drag of his smoke. “Your sponsor is like your conscious. You can call them at any time - day or night. They are there to help you on your road to recovery.” 

“Sounds too good to be true.” Peter stands up, and this time puts his butt into the ashtray. “No one’s ever cared about me that much to look out for me like that.” 

“I thought the same thing myself, but I’m ten years sober now.” Tony puts his own smoke out, and meets Peter’s eyes. “If you knew me ten years ago, you would never believe that I would have survived this long. So, the program works - as long as you let it.” 

“Do I get to choose my sponsor? Or is Val going to choose one for me?” 

He shrugs his shoulders. “You can if you want. Or, she can find someone that’s a good fit for you.” 

“Are you a sponsor?” 

_Bingo_. Tony nods his head. “I’ve helped out on occasion, but haven’t had someone that I’ve helped completely through their recovery.” Again, he figures Peter deserves to be told the truth, if he’s going to get any sort of trust going between the two of them. 

“W-Would you be my sponsor?” Peter asks, avoiding his eyes again. “I don’t want to be here. Anything I can do to get out of here, I will.” 

That comment worries him. “This isn’t going to be easy, Peter.” Tony doesn’t want him to think that just by saying yes to being linked together like this, it’s going to be a magic fix. “You’re going to be here for a few months. Maybe longer.” 

“I miss my bed.” 

Tony sees that he’s crying, but lets him cry quietly in peace. “You’ll get to go home, once you’ve shown you’re not going to fall off the wagon. They might consider putting you into an out patient program, where you’ll come here a few times a week, and then check in with your sponsor on the other days.” 

“That sounds nice.” Brown eyes look back up at him, Tony noticing how Peter looks old in the eyes, but young in the face. It’s visible how much pain he’s in. “What was your name again?” 

“Tony. Tony Stark.” He holds his hand out to him. 

“Mr. Stark - will you please help me?” Peter grabs his hand, and shakes it. “My name is Peter Parker.” 

Smiling, Tony gives his hand a firm shake. “I would love to help you, Mr. Parker.” He pulls his hand away, keeping the smile on his face. “Come on, let’s go back inside, huh? Show me your accommodations.” 

Peter laughs - the first time Tony’s heard such a youthful sound leave his mouth since meeting him. “Sure, Mr. Stark. It’s this way.” He follows him back into the building. 

***

His phone rings, waking him up from a dead sleep at two in the morning. He grabs his phone, which he keeps on the nightstand next to his bed, and answers it with his voice still thick with sleep. “Ello?” He clears his throat a little. 

“M-Mr. Stark?” Tony sits up, wide awake as he hears Peter’s voice come through loud and clear into his ear. “M-Mr. Stark, I’m not doing that great right now.” 

Rubbing his eyes, he tries to force himself to be more alert. “Talk to me, Pete. What’s going on? Did someone give you crap tonight?” He’d seen him a few hours ago at sober living, and had seemed like he was in good spirits. 

Peter had been at St. Maria’s for the past two months, and has been making good progress. Tony visits him every day, sometimes twice a day. Today he’d only seen him in the morning, as he had a standing date with Rhodey in the afternoon. “I’m doing bad tonight.” 

“It’s just temporary.” Tony reached for his smokes and grabbed one. “Do you need me to come there right now? I will, Peter. Just tell me. Don’t be afraid to ask for that.” 

“W-Would you? Could you?” 

He’s already up out of bed, and is putting his pants on as he hears Peter ask him in a broken voice. “Go and talk to the head nurse, okay? Let them know you’re waiting for me. Tell them you’re having a bad night. They understand. Don’t be afraid to talk to them.” 

“Mr. Stark - what if they try and drug me? They might try and sedate, and I’m scared that if they do that I’ll just want more of that, and then I’m back to where I was before I got here.” He can hear Peter becoming worked up as he talks to him. 

Grabbing his shirt off the floor, he yanks it on over his head and grabs his smokes. “They won’t. They know you were addicted to that shit when you were brought in. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay, Pete. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you as I drive over there?” 

“Can you do that?” 

“I can, but I need you to go and talk to them first. Call me back, okay? Is it a nice night out? Go and sit in the courtyard.” Tony grabs his keys, and is already walking out the door of his apartment and heading to his car parked outside. “Got any smokes?” 

“I ran out today.” 

“I’ll bring you a fresh pack. That means I’ll be five minutes later than I’d like. You okay with that?” Tony wants to get there now, but if the kid needs smokes? “You know what? Fuck it. I’ve got almost a full pack. Unless we smoke them all tonight.” 

“Could happen.” 

He gets his car unlocked and puts his phone on its holder. “Go and talk to the nurse, okay? Call me back right away.” 

“I will, Mr. Stark. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Pete. I’ll see you shortly.” He ended the call, and turned the car on. 

He’s been expecting a call like this from Peter. He remembers calling Rhodey often when he’d first started living at sober living, and needed to have someone friendly on his side. No one at the hospital he was stuck at had been jovial towards him. Rhodey really helped talk him down countless times, and had shown up in the middle of the night with a cup of strong coffee and some smokes. They would sit outside and talk until dawn, showing him that the night doesn’t have to feel as lonely as it does without the aid of alcohol or any sort of drug. Those nights come back and haunt him often, reminding him that he always had someone in his corner, which is - hopefully - how Peter is seeing him. 

It’s taken him a bit to get Peter to warm up to him, and the last couple of weeks have been the best so far. The withdrawal that Peter had gone through had been ugly - sick for a week, to the point where he had been too weak to get out of bed due to his withdrawal symptoms. But Tony had gone and seen him, sat by his side, held the bucket for him to purge the toxins out of his system. Peter had more weight showing in his face now, as he’s eating better, and is looking healthier. 

His phone starts to ring when he comes to a stoplight. “Peter?” He answers. “How’s it going? Are you out in the courtyard?” 

“Y-Yes, Mr. Stark.” 

“Kid, you know you can call me Tony. Or, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, call me Tones. Or even, Stark. No need to be formal with me, okay?” 

He can hear Peter sniffling. “It’s hard. You should be respected. I’m not a bad kid, Mr. Stark.” 

“Oh, Peter. I know you’re not.” He puts his foot on the gas as the light turns green. “You got into some trouble. No big deal. You’re doing great now.” 

“It doesn’t feel like that.” 

Tony sees the light of St. Maria’s up ahead, the itch to speed one he ignores. He can’t be wreckless right now - that would do no one any good. “I won’t lie to you. There’s going to be bad days. This is a bad day. Tomorrow is a different day.” 

“It’s already tomorrow.” 

This isn’t the time to argue. “Semantics, Pete. You know what I mean.” He pulls into the parking garage, the night guard waving at him as he raises the guard up. “Look, I’m going to be with you in two minutes, okay? I just got to the garage.” 

“No, that’s not possible.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” 

He sighs inaudibly, not wanting him to hear his frustration. _Was I this bad with Rhodey?_ “Well, you’re about to eat some crow. I’ll see you in a few.” He hangs up the call, and then grabs his phone. 

After tossing his keys to the guard, he walks over to the entrance and steps inside. He sees Denise sitting at the counter, a worried look on her face. “How bad is it?” He asks her, as she starts to write his name on a badge for him. 

“I haven’t seen him look this down before,” she hands him the badge. “Do you want me to brew some coffee?” 

“Please.” Tony nods. “Throw in a few extra scoops. We might be out in the courtyard until sunrise. That gonna be a problem?” 

“No, Tony.” 

“Thank you.” He slaps on the badge, then heads through the double doors, and heads to the entrance that leads out to the courtyard, mentally preparing himself for how he’s going to find Peter. 

He sees him sitting on the bench he’d first met him with his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms hugging them against his body. Tony pulls his pack of smokes out, and gives a little wave as he approaches Peter. “Stand up for me.” 

“W-What? Why?” Peter asks, but he does it all the same. 

Hoping that this won’t backfire on him, Tony stops in front of him and pulls him into a hug. He feels him stiffen right up against him, as if he’d never received a hug before in his life. But Tony doesn’t let go. He knows that sometimes, a little human contact helps soothe an ache that you’re not aware of. It takes him a few seconds, but then he feels Peter’s arms slip around him and return the embrace. Tony stands still, repeating over and over in his head that this is platonic, there’s only human kindness behind this hug, but he knows he’s only fooling himself. He hopes that Peter doesn’t read into it any more than just a hug, because they’ve been making so much progress, he doesn’t want to set him back because he can’t control his own hormones. 

They stand in the courtyard, embracing each other, for a very long five minutes. He can feel his shirt beginning to dampen as Peter cries softly against his chest. Tony doesn’t point it out - there’s no point. Sometimes you need a good cry to feel better. He’s spent many many nights alone in his apartment, sitting in his tub and just crying because it can be too much sometimes. Addiction is no joke. 

Peter pulls away, and looks up at him with an expression on his face that causes heat to bloom in his chest. “Thank you.” Peter sniffles, then wipes his eyes with both hands. “S-Sorry I got some snot on your shirt.” 

“Please. I don’t care.” Tony reaches up and gives the kid’s curls a little ruffle, and sees him make a face. “What? Don’t like that? Too bad.” He does it more, and then starts to see the smile he’s been getting to see more often the last week or so. “There. Much better.” 

“I didn’t think you’d come.” They sit back down on the bench together, Tony reaching into his pocket for his smokes. 

“I told you I would. No matter the time of day.” He wants Peter to know that he can count on him. It helps knowing that there’s someone in your court when you go through this process. Hell, Rhodey is still in his life because he needs that support from him, albeit not in the same way as he needed it ten years ago. “You can count on me, Peter.” 

He hands him a cigarette, then holds up the lighter for him. “To be honest, I’ve thought about calling you the last couple of nights, but I got through it. I don’t know how. I keep a journal.” Bluish-grey smoke fills the area as Peter takes a drag on his cigarette. 

“Good. Write those thoughts out. Get them out of your head. I keep a journal too.” It sits by his bedside, so he can exorcise his own demons onto the page, instead of keeping them in his head where they will drive him mad. “It helps a lot.” 

“Sometimes there are bad things I put in there.” 

“Like?” 

“How I miss the feel of being high. How I want that back without any repercussions. The taste of beer, wine, vodka, gin, bourbon.” 

“That’s always going to be with you.” Tony takes a drag of his own cigarette, and looks up at the sky. It’s still black, the light pollution of the city offering only a handful of stars in the sky. “It’s not going to be easy to forget about that. But it gets easier.” 

Peter turns to look at him. “Do you still think about it?” 

“All the damn time.” He nods his head, meeting his gaze head on. “It’s something we have to deal with as recovering addicts. It gets difficult when I go out to parties, and I’m the only sober guy in the room. But, at the same time, it also helps because I can see how foolish everyone acts without the worry of being there myself. It’s kind of liberating.” 

“Liberating.” 

“Yes, liberating.” Taking another drag, he knocks his knee against Peter’s. “Don’t sound surprised. I know you’re a long way off from having to deal with that, but remember - if you ever feel like you get that itch to do it again, I’m a phone call away.” 

“What if you’re not?” 

“I am.” 

“But-” 

Tony turns to him, swinging his leg over the other side of the bench so that he’s now straddling it. “I know tonight is bad for you. I know you’re filled with doubt, but look - you called me, and I came. I’m _here_ , Peter. That’s what sponsors are here for. They help you when you ask. They’re there for you when you can’t either. We have a sixth sense.” He smirks. 

“I see dead people?” Peter cracks a smile. 

“Hah. No.” Tony shakes his head, but his smirk turns to a smile at the comment. “You trusted me tonight to come. Trust me always. Please.” 

“What if you’re busy when I need help?” The smallness in his voice breaks his heart. He remembers asking Rhodey something similar when he was at his lowest point in sober living. It took him a long time to realize that Rhodey would always be there when he needed him. And he wants to be the same for Peter. “You can’t always come running.” 

“If I can’t, then we Facetime.” Grabbing his smokes, he pulls out another one and offers the pack to Peter, who gladly takes one for himself. “Technology is a dream now, and makes it so we can be with each other in a way that we never had before.” 

They smoke their cigarettes, Peter looking towards the building while Tony keeps his eyes on his profile. Peter is beautiful, there’s no denying it. His face carries so much sadness on it though, that all Tony wants to do is make him smile more. Make him see how the world is a beautiful place to live in without the aid of booze or drugs. But he can’t, because that’s a choice that Peter has to make on his own. 

He sees Peter nod his head. “Right. FaceTime. My camera is shit, though.” 

“So, I look at a pixelated version of you. Still better than no picture at all.” Tony takes another drag, and looks up at the sky. When he lowers his head, he sees Peter has been looking at him, but as their eyes meet, Peter snaps his head to look forward again. _Interesting_. “Maybe I’ll buy you a new phone for Christmas.” 

“That’s like, six months away.” 

“Then that’ll give you something to look forward to.” Tony knows it’s going to seem like forever to Peter, but he knows that the time will pass by faster than either of them expect it to. 

“You mean, a reason to not end it all.” 

He expects that, knowing Peter’s struggles. “That’s correct.” Tilting his head back, he looks up at the sky. “I tried once myself. At my lowest point.” He holds his arm out, showing the small scar running up from his wrist to his forearm. “Chickened out at the last minute, so it’s more of a graze than anything. But it’s a reminder of a darker time.” 

“I don’t think I have the guts to do it.” A long sigh comes from next to him. “But sometimes, it’s nice to think about it all coming to an end. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when I get out of here.” 

“You have me.” Tony puts his hand on his shoulder, trying to transfer a little bit of hope through the touch. “I’ll help you. We’ll help each other.” 

Peter stays quiet, but Tony sees him give a small nod of his head. That’s enough for him. 

They stay outside until dawn begins to break, neither really saying much more of anything except being there for each other. The entire pack of smokes disappears. Tony’s glad he had an extra pack in his glove box, because he knows that Peter needs them right now. He gives them to him before he leaves. 

“Remember - I’m just a phone call away.” Tony looks him in the eyes. “You call me when you get down like this again, okay?” 

“Y-Yeah. I will.” 

He’s about to turn and leave when he sees Peter step forward, and then surprises him with hugging him goodbye. Tony is quick to put his arms around him, hugging him close as he rests his head down on the top of his head. They stay standing in the hallway, Tony keeping a secure hold on him, not at all ready to let him go. But he knows that people will be up soon, and Peter should try and get a little bit of sleep before their meeting in the afternoon. 

“Be good.” He whispers into his ear, and feels Peter nod his head up and down against his sternum. “See you in a few hours, Pete.” 

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” 

Walking out of the double doors, he heads to the nurses station. “Let him sleep for a bit this morning.” 

“We will, Tony. Don’t worry.” Denise smiles. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure he appreciates it.” 

“I hope so. I know I did when I needed it myself.” He gives her a little wave, then heads out to the garage. He still had work he’s going to have to deal with. It’s time for some more coffee. 

***

“Tony - we’ve had an incident.” 

Panic floods his system as he holds the phone against his ear. “What’s happened.” 

“Peter tried to harm himself.” 

He brings the heel of his hand up to his eye, and tries to remain calm. “Did he succeed?” 

“Only a little. We got to him before major damage could be done.” 

_Okay. He’s alive_. That fills him with a little relief. “Great. Can I see him?” 

“You know you can’t. He’s on a fifty-five eighty-five hold.” 

Fuck. _Fuck_. “Got it. When did it go into place?” He rubs his eyes again, hoping he remembers the time on it correctly. _Fuck it, I’ll Google it later_.

“Two hours ago.” 

“Great.” His lip trembles, as a tear slides down his face. “I’ll be there in seventy hours.” 

“We look forward to seeing you then. He’s going to be okay, Tony.” 

“I sure fucking hope so.” He whispers, then ends the call. 

It’s been two months since that night Tony had gone to the sober living facility and stayed up all night with Peter. He’s been doing great, with a few rough patches here and there. This news is so unexpected, that Tony begins to wonder if he’s missed the signs. _Are my feelings for him clouding my judgement?? Fuck_. He can’t think about that right now. No, Peter’s a smart kid. If he wanted to do something like this, then he would be someone that can hide it perfectly. _God damn it_.

He looks at the time. It’s not even one in the morning. But there’s no way he’s going back to sleep now. Picking his phone up, he scrolls through his contacts, and finds the number he’s looking for. He pushes it down, and brings it up to his ear. 

“Tones.” Rhodey’s voice comes through on the second ring. “What’s up? Everything okay?” 

Tony can’t speak. All he can do is sob. The reality that he’s failed Peter makes him _hurt_. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Tones, talk to me. What’s going on? Need me to come see you? Tell me what’s going on, bud. I’m here.” The calmness in Rhodes’ voice helps to ground him somewhat. 

“I fucked up, Rhodey. I’m in a bad place right now. I failed the kid.” 

“No, you didn’t. You’re doing great. Come on, keep talking to me.” 

It’s eerily like what he’d done with Peter that night when Peter had called when he was low. “He tried to hurt himself. He’s in a fifty-five eighty-five right now.” He tries not to cry more, but more tears start to fall down his cheeks. “God, Rhodey. I should have seen this! I’m a fucking failure at this shit!!” 

“You are not. Stop thinking like that.” Tony closes his mouth, not wanting to interrupt him. “You are doing great. There’s no handbook for this gig. Okay, there is, but it’s all bullshit anyway. We adjust and do what we think needs to be done.”

He hears a car alarm go off. “Are you stealing a car?” 

“Ha ha, very funny. No, I hit the wrong button. Now, what happened?” He hears the sound of a seatbelt being put on, and then hears a car starting. “Talk to me, Tones. When did you last see him?” 

“Like six hours ago. We were talking about how well he’s been doing, and how the nurses think that he might be able to go out in a couple of months.” Tony rubs his eyes, beginning to pace around the room. “He seemed happy about it.” 

“That might have triggered him. Remember the first time when they said you were going to get released?” 

His eyes opened, and he stared at the wall. “Oh God.” Rhodes is right. That knowledge may have set him off in a way that isn’t good. “Shit.” 

“You had no idea. You were there this afternoon for him. That’s good. That’s a good thing, Tones.” He hears Rhodes swear under his breath. “He’s going to be okay. You had your own fifty-one fifty, remember?” 

How could he forget? He’d been doing so well in sober living - a little too well, his mind had decided. The little scar on his right forearm was what put him into that seventy-two hour hold, because he had been deemed harmful to himself and to others. But Peter - Peter’s a good kid. He’d never do something like that to anyone. It breaks his heart to think Peter couldn’t reach out and call him, like he’s told him countless times. 

“How did I fuck this up?” He whispers, tears beginning to fall. “What have I done wrong? I’m doing everything like you. You’re such a good sponsor. You always help me. Why am I not able to do the same for him?” 

“Tony, listen to me.” Closing his mouth, he holds the phone against the side of his head as more tears fall. “You did _nothing_ wrong. From the way I understand it, you are doing way better than I did at this stage in the game. Val has called me a few times and told me about how proud she is of the work you’ve been doing there. Not just with Peter, but with the others as well.” 

Hearing the compliments help to bring him down a little, but the worry that he’s failed Peter sits heavy on his soul. “W-Why didn’t he call me?” 

“I could ask you the same thing when you had your accident.” Rhodes is quick to remind him. “We all handle these things differently. You can’t cure the kid. You know that.” 

“I love him.” 

The words slip out of his mouth faster than he can stop them. There’s a long, quiet pause on the other end of the line, Tony feeling regret at telling Rhodey how he feels. “How long have you known?” 

“A few weeks now.” Tony exhales, happy that Rhodey hasn’t berated him yet. “I know this is bad. He doesn’t know. But - I don’t want him to die. He can’t. I need him as much as he needs me.” 

The sound of a car alarm being activated has him looking to his front door. A minute later and there’s a soft knock on his door. He keeps the phone against his ear, and is quick to open it. Rhodey is there, a sad smile on his face, also holding his phone to his ear. They both end the call, and Tony collapses into his arms, crying hard as he lets everything he’s been holding onto since he got the phone call from St. Maria’s. 

“It’s going to be okay.” Rhodes speaks softly into his ear, rubbing his back as they hug each other in the foyer of his apartment. “He’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.” 

“If he’s tried, he’s going to try again.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“How do you know?” 

Rhodes looks up at him, Tony staring into his eyes, trying to find something there that he can hold on to. “You didn’t.” 

“I’m not him.” 

“You’re right. You’re not.” They let each other go, Tony following Rhodes into his kitchen where his friend starts to make coffee for the two of them. “You know - you being in love with him, and being his sponsor - that’s dangerous.” 

He sighs again. “I know. Why do you think I’m trying my damnedest to not feel this way? It’s bad.” 

“You didn’t let me finish.” Rhodes leans against the counter, and crosses his arms over his chest. Tony mimics zipping his lips shut, and leans against the wall. “What I was going to say is that being his sponsor and being in love with him, it’s dangerous - but it’s not unheard of. I know quite a few sponsors that have fallen in love with their cases, and have lived happy lives together. Some wind up falling off the wagon with their case.” 

“That won’t happen.” 

“It had better not.” The stern look that Rhodes gives him lets Tony know that his friend is being more than serious. “You have to look out for each other. There’s going to be good times, and bad times. They’re going to hate you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

He knows this. He’s hung up on Rhodey on more than one occasion, tired of hearing him say things he doesn’t want to hear. “What if I suggested to him we live together when he gets released?” 

“Do you think you can handle that?” Rhodes asks, the percolator going off to let them know the coffee is ready. “If you think you can handle it, then I say sure - go for it. But that’s a big responsibility, Tony. Can you afford to get a two bedroom place on your salary?” 

_Shit_. He really couldn’t, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hustle to make it happen. “It might be tight.” 

“That’s an understatement.” His friend snorts, pouring them both a cup of coffee. Tony prefers to drink his black, but keeps creamer in his fridge for Rhodes, who walks over to it and takes it out of the door. “If you think you can handle it, suggest it to him. Maybe not after he gets out of his hold. He’s going to be fragile.” 

“I remember.” 

“He’s going to be hurting. A lot.” 

“I _remember_.” Tony reiterates, because it seems that Rhodes isn’t accepting his answers. “I’ll talk to the nurses, and see what they say. If we all decide to do it together, and present it to him in such a way that seems good, then maybe that’ll work.” 

Rhodes sips his coffee, as Tony lights up a cigarette. “I mean it, Tony. This is going to be difficult. You sure you want that responsibility.” 

“I’m ten years clean.” 

“He could relapse.” 

“So what.” 

“Are you going to relapse with him?” 

He shakes his head. “Of course not. He won’t be able to do that.” 

“Love does some dumb things.” Rhodes looks at him over his coffee mug. “When’s the last time you had feelings for someone like this?” 

Taking a drag, he exhales then takes a sip of coffee. “I honestly can’t remember.” 

“And _that’s_ a problem. Because humans are dumb when they’re in love.” 

“You’re married.” He points to the wedding band on Rhodes’ finger. “She accepted you, your past, your future.” 

“ _She_ is not a recovering addict.” 

“So what.” Tony takes another sip. “She knew what she was getting into by dating you.” 

“Look, all I’m saying is be careful, okay? It’s one thing to be a sponsor - it’s another to be roommates.” 

Tony sighs, and nods his head. Peter was almost eighteen. Soon he’d be allowed to make decisions that he hasn’t been able to due to his age. “It’s such a dumb idea. I hate that I fell for him.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“You’re right.” The cigarette does little in helping him try and calm his mind down. “I don’t know if he would go for it.” 

“You won’t know unless you talk to him.” 

“It’s going to end bad, Rhodey.” 

“Sometimes, it’s worth taking that chance. You know that, Tones.” 

He takes a deep breath, and nods his head. “Yeah, you’re right.” Rubbing his hands over his face, he picks up his smoke and takes one last drag before stubbing it out in his ashtray. “Can I ask you a huge favor?” 

“Yes, I’ll go with you when the seventy-two hours are up.” 

Tony rests his head on Rhodes’ shoulder, happy that his friend knows exactly what he’s going to ask for. “You don’t have to go in with me.” 

“I won’t. But I'll be outside, waiting for you.” 

“That’s all I want.” 

“I know. I’ve learned what you need over the last decade.” 

They share a look, and then both are laughing. It feels good to laugh, although the feeling disappears quick as reality comes crashing back down. “Guess I need to start looking at two bedroom apartments, huh?” 

“Might be a wise idea.” 

“Stay tonight with me?” 

Rhodey reaches over and covers Tony’s hand. “I had no plans on leaving, my friend.” 

“Thank you.” 

***

Seventy hours later, Tony walks into St. Marie’s. Rhodes is out in his car, the two of them having driven together. It had been the longest seventy hours in his life. Even longer than when he’d gone through his own fifty-one fifty hold. Anxious doesn’t begin to cover what he feels right now, anxious to see Peter. After seeing him every single day for the last six months, the withdrawal has been bad for him. He never knew he could physically depend on a person like he feels for Peter. 

“Hi.” He greets the nurse, who offers him a kind smile. “How’s Peter doing?” 

“He’s much better.” She writes a name tag for him. “They’re expecting you. Head back to the small meeting room. You remember where it is, Tony?” 

He nods his head. “I do. Will he be alone?” 

“There’s someone outside.” The nurse nods her head. “Go on back.” 

Taking a deep breath, he goes over to the double doors and heads in after being buzzed in. He takes a right turn, and heads down the hallway. Two more doors, and he sees a nurse sitting outside the door, keeping an eye on the window that looks into the room. “Hi, Tony.” He greets him. “He’s waiting for you.” 

“Thanks, Clint.” He nods to the nurse and puts his hand on the door. Preparing himself mentally for what he’s about to go through, he keeps his face neutral as he walks into the room. As the door closes, he looks up and sees Peter staring at him, tears already running down his face. “Oh, Pete….” 

The chair he’s sitting on is pushed back fast, knocking over as Peter rushes over to him. Tony holds his arms out and grunts softly when Peter collides hard into him. But it doesn’t matter, because Peter is still here. He can hurt him as often as he wants, as long as he sticks with him - sticks with their plan. 

“I’m so sorry.” Peter cries against his chest, clinging to him. Tony hugs him tight, keeping his mouth closed as he lets Peter talk. “I was so stupid. That was so dumb. I don’t know why I tried. No, that’s not true - I do know why I tried. But as soon as it happened, I panicked and told them.” 

“You should have called me.” He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, but it’s tough. “I told you - you can tell me anything. Call me anytime.” 

“I can’t.” Soft sobbing hits his ears as Peter clings to him harder. “As soon as I did it, I regretted it. I knew you’d be upset with me.”

“I’m not upset.” 

“No, you’re right. But you’re disappointed, aren’t you?” 

He chooses his words carefully, knowing that they’re already skating on thin ice. “Having someone call me to let me know that you’ve been put into a fifty-five eighty-five isn’t the best way I’d like to be woken up from deep sleep. But I think anyone would have that same reaction.” 

“When I did it, you were my first thought.” 

“I don’t know if I should feel flattered or not.” Tony jokes, hoping that Peter will laugh. He hears him snort. _Close enough_. 

“As the blood began to drip, I knew I fucked up. My first thought was ‘Tony is going to be so upset.’” 

Hearing Peter call him by his first name, and not by his usual ‘Mr. Stark’ throws him. It’s at that moment that he realizes that maybe - just maybe - Peter might be having the same sort of feelings for him that he has for the struggling teen. Could he be so lucky? He doesn’t know, but the look in Peter’s eyes gives him a hint of what might be that. “I just want to help you. Just let me help you.” Tony can’t keep the pleading tone out of his voice no matter how hard he tries to remain neutral. They’re already far beyond that point, and they both know it. 

“Oh yeah?” Peter gives Tony a challenging look, “And how are you going to do that when you’re just as fucked up as I am?”

“Two fuck ups make a right. Did you not learn that in school?” Again, he falls back on humor to try and get Peter to see his thoughts. “And I may be fucked up, but at least I know that. It’s taken me a long time to figure it out, but I got there. You? You put too much pressure on yourself. You’re an addict Peter. Suicide isn’t the answer.” 

“I know.” The sigh he hears leave his mouth is a noise that someone Peter’s age should never make. It’s too weary, too much life experience behind it that shouldn’t be there. “I think all the talk about me leaving made me panic. I don’t know if I’m ready to go back out into the world. W-What if I slip up?” 

“If you do, just know it’s part of the road to recovery.” 

Peter stares up at him, a put out look on his face. “I don’t want to fail, Tony.” 

“You won’t. Look, I was going to talk to you about this.” Tony tries to ignore how good it feels to hear Peter call him by his first name like that. _That’s twice now. What the hell_. He leads him over to the table, and they sit down next to each other, instead of him sitting across from him. “I know the idea of going back into the world is scary. It seems impossible, when it’s safe in here.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And it doesn’t sound like you have a good place to go back to, am I right?” 

He sees him shake his head. “If I go back to my Aunt’s place, then I will definitely relapse. She likes to drink, and has a lot of pain medication laying around.” 

“Is that how you got started?” 

“Mixing the two.” Peter nods, then leans against him. Tony picks up his chair and moves to sit a little closer to him. “I like how it feels.” 

“Then yeah - that place is a no go.” Tony hopes that his next suggestion won’t be met with an eye roll. “What if we found a place together? Two bedrooms. I want to say you’ll have freedom to do what you want, but you won’t.” 

“I know.” The soft whisper is easy for him to hear with how close they are sitting to one another. “I have to earn your trust.” 

“Yes.” He nods his head. “But it won’t be like that forever.” 

“Can I think about it?” 

“Of course.” Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulls out two packs of cigarettes. “These are for you. Don’t chain smoke them, please.” 

Peter picks them up, and looks at them. “I won’t.” 

There’s a soft knock on the door, and Tony sees Clint standing there. “Guess that means my time is up.” 

“No….” 

Standing up, Peter stands up with him and soon he feels him back in his arms. It feels good to be this physical with him, when it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get him to hug him back. This feels _nice_. Serotonin floods through his brain as he keeps a close hold of Peter. “I’ll be back tomorrow. You want to go rest in your bed, don’t you? See your own room?” 

“Strangely enough, I do.” Peter looks up at him, his eyes a little glassy with unshed tears. “You’ll come back tomorrow?” 

“I will.” 

“I think I want to say yes. But I’m scared. I’m messed up.” 

“You just told me I was too. Remember? Two fuck ups make a right.” Tony smiles, and gives him another quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Bye, Tony.” 

He opens the door, and sees Clint give him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Tony.” 

“No, it’s okay. That was enough time. Thanks.” He gives him a nod, and then heads back to the front of the hospital. 

“So, how’d it go?” Rhodey asks him as he gets back to the car. “You don’t look upset.” 

“He’s going to think about it.” 

“That’s better than not.” Rhodes starts the car, as Tony buckles in. “You doing okay?” 

“He cried a lot.” He wipes his eyes, allowing the emotion he’d been hiding from Peter to finally come out. “I don’t want to fuck this up, Rhodey.” 

“You won’t. I can already tell you love him a lot, and it sounds like he might have similar feelings for you.” 

“Who knows.” Tony knocks his head back against the seat. “Let’s go get a cheeseburger.” 

“Sounds like the perfect antidote to a fucked up situation.” 

***

Tony returns to St. Marie’s the next day, and the one after that. Peter looks better each day, the bandages on his wrists disappearing after two weeks. Tony notices they are small cuts, not large enough to do serious damage, and wonders how Peter is going to react to having those scars with him. His own is a constant reminder of how he’d almost lost his chance at his second start. Maybe it will be the same for him. 

“Tony?” He turns towards Peter, the two of them smoking in the courtyard. “I’ve thought a lot about what you suggested, you know - after I got out of my hold?” 

“Oh?” His heart begins to palpitate in his chest, his mouth suddenly very dry. “And? What are you thinking?” 

“If they release me, then I’d like to try it.” 

“I think we can make that happen.” 

“But can you answer one question for me?” 

“Depends on what the question is.” 

“Do you love me?” 

“I do.” 

Peter shakes his head. “No, I mean - are you _in_ love with me?” 

“I understood what you were asking.” Tony figures he’s going to find out one way or another if they move in together. Might as well just tell him now. “Is that a deal breaker?” 

“No.” Fingers touch his hand, and Tony is quick to turn his palm over so that their fingers can lace together. “I like that.” 

“Do you love me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“That’s okay.” He nods his head, looking down at their joined hands. “You don’t need to know. What you need to know is that no matter what happens, I’m looking out for you. I’m fighting for you - _always_.” 

“What if you hate me? What if I fail?” 

Tony turns towards him, and looks into Peter’s eyes. “I know I will hate you, because I am a very temperamental person. You won’t fail, because I won’t let you. But, if you do? So what. We start over again. It’s a long road to recovery. I’m still a recovering addict. I will _always_ be a recovering addict.” 

“If you’re by my side, I think it’ll make this next step easier.” Peter admits, speaking softly. “I won’t leave until I’m eighteen.” 

“Which is in a couple of weeks. Do you think you’ll be ready to leave that soon?” 

Peter gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “I’m not sure.” 

“Let’s just take it day to day, okay?” Tony rests his head on top of Peter’s, putting their joined hands to rest on top of his thigh. “One day at a time.” 

“I can do that.” 

***

Tony stands at the front door of their new apartment, his hand being held tight by Peter. It’s been a week since his eighteenth birthday, and after a full evaluation, he’s been released from sober living. “Are you ready to see your new place?” 

“Nope.” Peter shakes his head, but he sees there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “What if it’s too small? Tony, we can’t be on top of each other.” 

“On the contrary.” Tony puts the key into the lock, and then turns it. “I think being on top of each other is _exactly_ what we need. Let’s trade drug addiction with some good old sex addiction.” 

“ _Tony_.” That comment gets a loud laugh out of Peter, which makes him smile. It’s a good sound - one that has finally returned after the hold he’d been put on. He much prefers Peter happy like this. “We haven’t kissed yet. Can we do that first before you decide we’re going to become sex addicts?” 

Pushing the door open, he pulls Peter inside. “I hope it’s to your liking, Mr. Parker.” He takes the bag that Peter had taken from St. Marie’s, and sets it down. “And right. This is long overdue.” He puts his hand on Peter’s face, and lowers his head to kiss him softly on the lips. One kiss turns to two, two into four, and then Tony is struggling to breathe as Peter’s tongue invades his mouth, moaning low in appreciation for how quick Peter is to match him. “Yes, that was very much overdue.” He murmurs against his lips. 

“This place is perfect.” Peter looks around, Tony staying close to him. “This is going to be difficult, isn’t it?” 

“I will never lie to you.” 

“So, is that a yes?” 

He nods his head. “Yes.” 

“But, it’ll be easier because you’ll help me when I need it, and vice versa?” 

“Correct.” 

“Two recovering addicts living together. What could go wrong?” 

Tony puts both of his hands on his face, and stares into his eyes. “What could go right?” He lowers his head and kisses him softly. He feels Peter yield to his kiss, then rests his forehead against his. “Let’s get you settled in, Peter.” 

He knows there are going to be many bumps in the road, but the bumps will be worth it. Peter came into his life for a reason, and he intends on keeping him in it for as long as possible. It’s always a long road to recovery for an addict - a constant day to day struggle that will be met head on by the both of them together. Tony knows that Peter and himself are going to be okay, because they have each other. 

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're not familiar with a 5150 hold: A 5150 was the number established by the Welfare and Institutions Code that can put an adult in an involuntary hold for 72-hours. A person has to be considered a danger to themselves or others to be put into a 5150 involuntary hold. 
> 
> A 5585 is the same as a 5150, but for minors. Both are mentioned in this story as Tony was 20 when he was put in his hold, and Peter was 17.


End file.
